With Vega At Your Left
by Threesmallcrows
Summary: At the turn of the year, the Iwatobi crew receive the tattoos that will reveal their soul-mates. At the turn of the year, Makoto's life goes to pieces.
1. Chapter 1

On January 1, 12:01 am, Makoto's life goes to pieces.

All around them, the other celebrators cheer and clap as the temple bells begin to ring, counting up in their sonorous voices to the traditional one hundred and eight. But the eighteen-year-olds, they're silent; every one of them gazing at their bared wrists, soft and pale and exposed in the biting cold, like so many twists of sea foam.

Staring at the ink beginning to bleed across his skin, heart on hyper-drive and white static hissing before his eyes, Makoto imagines the bells all across the nation simultaneously crying out to one another. Reaching desperately across the darkness and silence, like mournful birds.

He's been so on-edge this whole week that he hasn't slept more than five hours in three days. Everything around him looks dim and far away. He hopes he's not blacking out.

In a moment, it's done. His mouth goes cotton-dry and his head pounds in time with the next strike of the bell, whole body vibrating in shock. He forces himself to check again, carefully. But of course he's known the characters of Haru's name since practically before he could write his own; he'd have realized, already, if they were his. Just once, he mouthes the _kanji _to himself. It's a gender-neutral name; no one he knows.

Perhaps the disappointment is too intense; Makoto actually does feel himself black out a little, his knees dipping suddenly.

_It's over._

In a second, he straightens himself, sucking in a breath. _I'm all right. I'm okay._

His eyes go straight to Haru. But Haru, he hasn't noticed Makoto at all.

No, he's staring at Rin, and Rin is staring back.

Makoto feels his heart stop again.

()

He has no idea how he makes it home that night. He does remember having to keep his hands in his pockets the entire way back to hide how they were shaking. Standing at his doorstep—alone, Rin and Haru had long ago vanished off somewhere—his keys escape him, breaking their backs against the ground. It takes him three tries to fit them into the doorknob.

He slips his shoes off as quietly as he can. The house is mostly dark, which means the twins must have already dozed off.

"Welcome home." His mother's voice floats down the hall, soft and warm as the scent of baking bread. Already Makoto feels his eyes brimming.

"Hey, Mom," he calls out as casually as he can, hoping to escape quickly up the stairs into the sanctuary of his bedroom.

Right away she peers around the corner.

"What's wrong?"

The tenderness of her voice breaks him like a piece of glass. Tears streak down his face.

"Oh, Mako-chan. What happened?"

He has to lean down to bury his face into her shoulder.

She guides him to the sofa. The sobs wring the air out of him, tighten around his temples like screws, boring inwards.

"Was it the matching?"

Mutely, he nods into her sweater.

She doesn't try and look at the name marring his wrist.

"I j-j-just th-thought it would b-be someone I knew," he chokes, careful even now to avoid any mention of Haru's name. "E-everyone else…"

"Oh, honey. It's okay. It'll be all right."

He keeps telling himself to stop, to pull himself together, but it's like something's cracked inside of him. He clings to her like a child until he cries himself out.

()

Makoto wakes up on the couch, tucked snugly underneath a blanket. 

_Ah, that's right. _He'd made a scene of himself last night.

His head aches as badly as if he's hungover. In the bathroom mirror, his eyes look horribly puffy. He presses a cold wet towel to them, and takes some of the twins' bright-red liquid fever medicine, half for the headache and half for the comforting, too-sweet artificial taste he associates with being pampered during childhood bouts of sickness.

Already he's determined to put himself on lockdown. No matter what he does or thinks, feels or wishes, there's no way he can go back to last night and undo what happened; the neat navy characters branded on his left wrist remind him of as much. The sooner he accepts it and moves on, the better for everyone.

Still, as he wobbles out into the harsh morning air to fetch Haru, he thanks god Rin doesn't go to their school. He doesn't know if he could hold up in front of him.

As expected, Haru doesn't seem the slightest bit affected. He doesn't once mention what happened between him and Rin, how between two peals of the bells Rin had made a strangled noise and pressed Haru to him, forehead-to-forehead, murmuring something only Haru could hear; doesn't mention what they did when they slipped off, leaving Makoto and Gou and Rei and Nagisa to take the subway home without them. And because Makoto is too shaky to trust himself to say anything, the walk to Iwatobi is mostly silent.

"Nagisa and Gou…" Haru mutters as they turn the corner to the main road.

That's right. If Makoto hadn't been a bit—preoccupied, he's sure he would have been shocked. The two of them are close, in that bickering sort of way, but surely none of them had expected it. They, too, had disappeared off somewhere together that morning.

He nods, wondering vaguely what they'll do about it.

At school, their classroom suddenly has a few more couples. It makes sense—there's no point in waiting. _Not as if there's any uncertainty._

Makoto bites his lip. Rin and Haru. Nagisa and Gou.

He'd give anything to go back to yesterday.

()

Really, only Rei's in the same boat as him.

He doesn't _seem _to be taking it badly. "I'm going to post on Eighteen," he says to Makoto quietly. "What about you?"

Makoto shakes his head. Eighteen's the most popular match-finding service in Japan, a small application that runs in conjunction with most social-media websites. Newly matched people simply enter their match's name into the app, and it sends them a notification and contact information if it finds a corresponding match in its database. "It feels kind of strange."

"Don't you want to find them?" Rei taps his wrist, grinning, and Makoto realizes he's excited—practically humming in his seat. "Your other."

Nausea. Makoto swallows hard.

"I'm not really in a hurry."

It takes less than five days for Rei to hear back.

It takes less than five days for Makoto to fall apart.

He keeps reminding himself that everyone will stop talking about it, eventually. That after a week or two it'll be less of a novelty, and he'll finally be able to stop hearing ecstatic stories about old crushes validated or new loves found in the next town over, or down the street. Scores of well-meaning girls and a few boys have peered at the name on his wrist, but so far nobody's identified it as one they know. Thank god for that—he'd feel terrible for them. He knows he's in no shape right now to be a match for anyone.

Since the New Year, he has cried every night. For fifteen minutes, twenty, masked by the spray of their shower. He thinks he could probably keep going for hours, if it weren't for the fact that he eventually has to get out, has to help set the dinner table and tutor the twins and smilingly listen to his parents' stories about work. They should help, his family. A distraction, at least. Instead, it's exhausting. He can't stop thinking about his mom and dad—bonded the instant they found one another as freshmen in college. Every day, he seesthem fall more in love.

This is what the bond should do. Match you to the missing half of your soul.

_No, _he corrects himself, sluggishly. _This is what the bond does. For example, Haru and Rin—_

Idly, he scratches at the tattoo.

Ran leans over and grabs his arm. Peering at the name, sounding out the syllables.

"Ha… Haka…"

"Hanewa," corrects Mom. "Hanewa Yuki. It's a lovely name."

She doesn't quite glance at him, but he's noticed—how she's been extra cheery lately, cooking foods he likes, hovering at his door when she comes by to say good night. Ever since that night he made a fool of himself, she's treated him like fine porcelain. He should've held himself together better.

So he smiles as cheerily as he can at his little sister and says, "Good try, though."

"It's a girl, right?" asks Ren, legs swinging. "But I thought…"

"It's what's called 'gender neutral,'" says Makoto too fast. "That means we don't know whether it's a boy or a girl's name."

"Kinda like how _onii-san _has a girl's name," laughs Ran.

"Something like that."

Dinner that night is pork cutlet, one of Makoto's favorites. He tries, he really does, but he can't finish half as much of it as he normally does. The food is oddly tasteless, sandlike in his mouth. He's sure Mom notices. He feels terrible about it.


	2. Chapter 2

Rei is visibly nervous when he sets off to meet his match after school.

"You smell nicer than normal," teases Nagisa—holding Gou's hand, which is something Makoto has yet to get used to.

"Be nice, Nagisa, or else Rei-kun might throw up on you," he says, more for Rei's benefit than anything. "Are you sure you don't want one of us to come with you?"

"Of course not," chirps Nagisa. "After all, what if things end up moving along quickly—it'd be awkward to have another person—"

"Nagisa-san!" barks Rei, and they all laugh.

"Just relax," advises Gou. "You don't have anything to worry about. I mean, you guys are matched already, so…"

"That's true," breathes Rei. Makoto can see confidence settling in him, straightening him up and smoothing out his breathing. The sheer, unchangeable fact of it anchoring his frantic heart: _you guys are matched already, so…_

He must have slipped a little, because Gou glances over at him and squeezes his arm briefly.

"It's okay," she says. "I'm sure you'll find your other soon."

If only that were the problem.

As he watches Rei board the bus to Shinagawa, waving at them as it pulls away, something begins to tighten in Makoto's chest. A panicky, fluttery sensation, something like what he feels when he's really hungry, but worse. His heart beats too fast. He glances skywards nervously. For a moment, there, he'd felt like he was about to fall into the air.

()

And the worst thing is, Haru is over the moon.

To anyone else he probably looks the same, plodding to school and back with that neutral expression on his face, but Makoto knows Haru maybe better than he knows himself, and he can tell.

It's when his phone won't stop ringing in the middle of class, and afterwards Haru slouches in the hallway and says in an irritated voice, "Quit calling me, I'm in school," toying with the end of his tie. When he texts under his desk while their teacher's back is turned, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It's the brightening of his face when he catches sight of the black Samezuka uniform leaning like a smear of paint against the gate of their school; how quickly he vanishes afterwards. How his conversations with Makoto are even more absentminded than normal.

If Makoto was a good friend he would be overjoyed for Haru. Yet no matter how much effort Makoto puts into crafting his smile, it won't seem to hang right. Although he's not sure who he's putting this show on for—it's not like Haru's eyes are on him. If they ever were.

He struggles along. February is a trial. He keeps getting ill for some reason; spends half his days fighting off low fevers, bouts of shivering gnawing at him like rats. He chalks it up to the stress of upcoming finals. He needs to do well, or he won't be able to go to university—and if there was ever any doubt over whether or not he'd go, there's certainly none now. Sticking around Iwatobi is no longer an option.

His grades weren't amazing before, but at least his good subjects had balanced his bad. Now, even his scores in Japanese and mathematics are slipping. It's a fast enough shift that Ama-chan-sensei calls him in one day after school to talk about it.

"Are you feeling okay, Makoto-kun?"

"I'm all right. I, uh, know that my tests haven't been that good lately. I've just been sick a lot."

"That's no good. As Lao Tzu once said, 'Health is the greatest possession'! You've got to be careful with yourself, especially since the swimming season is coming up."

"I might not join the club next year."

He reacts to his own statement at the same time as Ama-chan-sensei. _Wait, why did I say that? _

"But you're the club president."

He bows his head, casting around for an excuse.

"Well, next year is senior year. I'll probably be busy studying for entrance exams and things, so…"

"So you're set on going to college? That's a good idea. Did you have someplace in mind?"

He shrugs. "I'm not sure. Probably—somewhere far away."

()

Come March, he's lost enough in his physics class that he approaches Rei to ask him for help.

"Of course, Makoto-san. It's no problem," says Rei. Makoto smiles a little—at least Rei's as simple-heartedly sincere as always.

"To be honest, I'm really behind in English, too," sighs Makoto.

"You could ask Rin-san for help."

"Rin?"

"Why not? He's over a lot lately, with Haruka-san."

On instinct, Makoto's teeth tear into his lip. "Well, you know. I wouldn't want to be a third wheel."

Rei dashes a glance at him. "Have you thought about using Eighteen?" he asks carefully. "I know you said you weren't in a hurry, but…"

Makoto shrugs. "I don't know. I think it's kind of nice to wait. I don't really feel, um, like getting in a relationship now, you know? Especially since we'll be so busy next year."

"Over 60 percent of people find their matches in college or later."

"You would know, wouldn't you."

Everyone knows Rei's planning to study fate mapping—essentially the science of matching—when he gets to college. He's been talking about it since their freshman year. "Fate mapping is the single most widespread and least understood biological phenomenon in the world. There's so much room for study." He pushes his glasses up his nose, fingers smearing the lens in his excitement, before launching into a half-lecture, half-tirade about some of the latest literature on the subject.

On New Year's Eve, Makoto had been ninety percent sure Rei was, after possibly himself, by far the most nervous for the matching. Of course he'd have wanted to find his match as soon as possible.

The day after Rei went on his date, Nagisa had practically pounced on him at lunch, demanding to know how it went. Right away Rei had gone all flustery and red, and everyone had laughed as Nagisa carried out his interrogation mercilessly.

"Boy or girl?"

"Boy…"

"And is he older than you or younger?"

Rei covers his face, and Nagisa crows in laughter.

"Come on, Rei-chan, spill it. You can't keep it hidden forever."

"He's twenty-three."

Makoto sees Gou's eyebrow tick upwards. Five years does seem like a bit of a gap.

"That's not so bad!" says Nagisa. "And here I thought it was gonna be something _really _scandalous, like a forty-year-old or something…"

"The map doesn't do that," grumbles Rei.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, the map is perfect and almighty and wonderful. But let's talk about you and… what's this guy's name anyway?"

"As if I'm going to tell you! You'll probably stalk him online or something."

"You leave me no choice. Gou, Makoto, hold him down—"

"Nagisa! Get off me—"

When the school bell rings, Nagisa prods Rei one final time in the side and asks, "So do you guys like one another?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"It's a perfectly legitimate question, so stop dodging it."

Rei glances away, cheeks flushing up a storm.

"He's p-perfect," he mutters.

And of course he, whoever he is, would be. After all, Rei believes unblinkingly and unquestioningly in the map, has just as much faith in it as he does in Newton's third law or gravity or matrix multiplication. A perfectly formed process, a closed and frictionless system. If Rei were in his position, Makoto thinks, Haru would already be in second place. Logically it must be so.

Second only to Rin, it is Rei that Makoto envies the most.


	3. Chapter 3

He never does end up asking Rin for help in English. Finals week smears by in a haze of coffee-fueled exhaustion and procrastination. Makoto's never been very good at studying, but this year, in particular, he can't focus. His bedroom is too clouded with memories of sleepless nights, the asphyxiation of thinking himself in circles, but when he goes to a library or to a café he can't stop noticing all the happy couples drifting by, their laughter like mockery. He doesn't feel like studying. He doesn't feel like going out with his friends. When he can he goes straight home after school, slouches against the headboard of his bed, and grinds his mind against his impossible dilemma until his thoughts fray. He wonders if he's depressed. But depression, that's a legitimate medical condition. People take treatments for that. _I'm just feeling sorry for myself. _But he can't figure out how to goad himself out of the ditch he's lying in.

What he really wants is to _tell _someone. Get the poison of all these unsaid words out of his veins. But who could he possibly talk to? Nagisa is too sympathetic and assertive of a person; Makoto does not quite trust him not to try and do something about it if he shows him how he feels. Gou is Rin's little sister and thus out of the question. Rei might be the best option, but he's scared that Rei, with his utterly bright-eyed view of the map, will judge him. Reject him for his smallness of heart and his stupidity.

In the end, he gets a C in English, and doesn't do much better in physics. His highest grade is a B+ from Ama-chan-sensei, and he suspects there's more than a little pity involved there.

His parents, who are usually pretty off-hand about these sorts of things, are not off-hand this time. They lecture him about how he can't afford to fool around if he wants to go to college. Instead of apologizing like he should, he snaps at them, argues mindlessly. Vaguely he's aware that he's taking his own stress out on them, that it's not fair and that he should stop, but he can't quite manage to actually do it. His parents are alarmed. After he's slammed his bedroom door for the first time he can remember, he hears their concerned, muffled voices discussing him downstairs. "Makoto's not like this."

_Well, deal with it, _he thinks, angry. _I am like _this, _now._

He manages to hold his grudge until nighttime, when his mother knocks quietly on his door and asks if she can come in. He caves, and in minutes is apologizing to her, remorse clawing at the inside of his chest. "That's okay," she says, sitting at the edge of his bed as he looks at his hands, avoiding her eyes. "Just try to do better next semester. And enjoy yourself over spring break, okay? Have fun and don't worry about anything."

He goes out less because he wants to than because he knows his parents will fret if he sits around the house all day. There's the usual round of video games and television marathons, as well as their tradition of sneaking into their old middle school's pool in the dead of night. They meet up late on Wednesday night and climb the steep, winding stairs to the school—in a small town like theirs, the buses stop running at ten. After they've all wiggled under the loose flap of chain link fence behind the baseball diamond, Rin sneaks a hand into the back pocket of Haru's jeans and Makoto pretends he doesn't notice.

As it turns out, the night isn't totally unbearable—Nagisa has somehow procured them several bottles of cheap wine and a pack of decent beer. Rei volunteers to be sober watch and the rest of them splash around in the shallow end, making drinking games out of races and breath-holding contests and diving competitions. Rin wins most of these, yet he still gets louder and happier and touchier as the night deepens, handle-pulling from the wine bottle and flirting openly with Haru. Haru, too, must be drunk, because he lets Rin do it.

Quietly, Makoto takes more than anyone else and swims to the center of the pool. He goes under, holding his breath and counting seconds. The water stings his eyes when he opens them. Ten. Fifteen. Everything is artificial turquoise, striated in bands of white swaying calmly as seaweed. Sounds muted. Far away, a tangle of pale knees in the corner. That must be Haru and Rin.

Twenty. Thirty. He likes it. He wishes he could stay down here.

Thirty five. Forty. He closes his eyes.

Someone is pulling at him. He surfaces in a splash, lungs heaving.

"Come on, Mako-tan, stop playing dead and come over here with us."

Obediently, he swims over to the side in a messy crawl. He reaches for the wine bottle, but Nagisa slides his hand over the lip.

"Save some for the rest of us. You've been at it all night."

"I'm not drunk," he protests. Everyone's eyes are on him. Rin is laughing, and a few seconds later Rei has him by the armpits and is hauling him bodily out of the water.

"Yeah, you'd better take a break for a few minutes, Makoto-san," he says, peering into his eyes. "You're sloshing even on land."

"You've been put on time-out. It's the lightweight corner of shame!" laughs Nagisa.

"As if you should be talking," Rin accuses. "You're the puniest one out of all of us."

"Please. I'm so sober it hurts. If we had anything harder I'd go shot-for-shot with you, Rin-rin. I'm not afraid."

"He's right," murmurs Haru, looking sleepy, arms propped on the rim of the pool. The pool lights fleck his inky eyes with stardust and trace the water-slick angles of his body. A sick thrill knifes Makoto somewhere below the navel. "Don't let Nagisa get you in a competition. You're already drunk enough."

"Am not."

"Your face is all red."

"Maybe that's your fault."

Lying on his back on the smooth tile floor, Makoto's eyes slide shut. The air feels pleasantly warm and the smell of chlorine is its own lullaby. _I'm happy for them, _he thinks, and falls abruptly asleep.

Waking comes slow. The room is dark, echoing faintly with the gentle slap of water. The floodlights set around the rim of the pool set everything on shimmering blue fire, as if they're all trapped inside the volcanic belly of a whale, moving ponderously through a sea of night and starry bioluminescent creatures.

A harsh whisper cuts over the surface of the silence, swift as an albatross.

"Haru—"

"Shhh."

Blearily, Makoto cracks his eyes open.

On the other side of the deck, Rin is a dark shape bent over Haru on all fours, face pressed into his neck. Rin moans, faintly. "_Fuck, _Haru, oh my God—"

"Shut _up_—"

Haru's voice slips on the last syllable as Rin does something to his throat, his breath leaving him as if he's been hit.

"Ah—_Rin—_"

"Shit. Shit. Hold on, let me—" Rin gropes sideways for something.

"It's in my wallet." The edge of a gasp dogs Haru's words like a shadow.

"Where…?"

"Pants. Pocket."

"…Okay, I got it."

The crinkle of plastic. Suddenly, Makoto realizes what it is they're talking about. All the drink-induced haze lifts in an instant. He's queasy with anger and bitterness and something almost like panic, even as the breathy sound of Haru's voice cleaves him in half with a flame-dark longing he hasn't felt in a long time. He feels sick and dizzy, maybe with alcohol and definitely with want and jealousy.

Right now, he could tear Rin in half.

As loudly as he can, he shifts and yawns.

Instantly, the two of them freeze.

After a second, Rin worms his hand back between the two of them.

"No," says Haru. "Wait—"

"Fuck that. He's been asleep for like an hour." Rin is like Makoto's never heard him before, nearly whining, his voice low and hoarse. "You know how he is. He'll sleep through anything."

But Haru's already sitting up, pushing Rin back until he's half in his lap. "It's late. Where're the other two?"

"Fuck knows. Come _on, _you're fucking killing me—"

"Later."

"Your house?"

"My parents aren't home. It'll be better when we're more sober anyways."

"_Fuck. _Fine. Fuck you, Nanase."

"You're kind of desperate." Makoto can hear the smirk in Haru's voice. "I like it."

Rin flops back to lie flat on the tile. "You're a total bastard and I hate you."

"I'm gonna wake him up. We need to get out while it's still dark."

"Mmmm, okay."

"Rin? Don't fall asleep."

"Mhm."

Hurriedly, Makoto closes his eyes. He hears Haru crouch besides him. His cool hand prods Makoto in the stomach.

"Hey. Wake up."

Still feeling sick, Makoto makes a show of blinking awake.

"Haru…? What time… is it?"

"Late. We're leaving." Haru eyes him as he stumbles to his feet. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, pretty much," he lies. "That stuff wasn't very strong. Where's everyone else?"

Haru nods his chin at Rin, passed out on the deck. "I dunno where Nagisa and Rei went."

"You think they left?"

"Their stuff is still here."

Makoto glances at Rin. "I'll go find them. You'd better wake him up."

"Scared?"

"Of course I am. Rin's a monster when he gets up."

"I meant of the dark."

"Very funny. I'll be back in a minute."

"Be careful."

Makoto smiles. "You get so mother-y when you're drunk."

"Shut up."

"All right, Haru, I'm going."

He moves off into the shower rooms, holding on to the wall with one hand.

Rin is going to follow Haru to his house. They're going to hook up and Rin will stay the night.

He used to sleep over at Haru's all the time, especially during break. Staying up till three marathoning zombie first-person shooters, or eating microwave-popcorn out of a bowl, or doing nothing at all.

The floor seems to buck beneath him, and he nearly trips. _Watch where you're going. And quit thinking about that._

"Rei?" he calls out. "Nagisa? We're leaving."

They're not there, or in any of the locker rooms. Peering blearily into various ill-lit corners, Makoto curses under his breath. He's going to be so hungover tomorrow.

"Guys?"

Confused, he ends up padding barefoot into the grounds of the school proper. There's a puddle of water gleaming at the foot of the stairs.

The steps sway slightly as he climbs them, rolling beneath his feet like the scales of a dreaming serpent. When he arrives at the door to the roof, it is so dark that the faded characters reading "do not enter" are barely visible. Back in junior high, he'd always been terribly afraid they would get caught whenever one or the other of his friends (usually Nagisa or Rin) would propose sneaking lunch onto the roof. They had, once. But the punishment hadn't been anything at all, just a tongue-lashing from the vice principal (duly ignored) and a promise never to do it again. It's still hard for him to distinguish between the mountains and the molehills of his many fears.

_You're just a little man, Makoto Tachibana. Your eyes are on the ground while your friends are looking at the stars._

Shaking his head, he pushes the door open. A gust of cool air rolls past him. The surface of the roof is gravel; Makoto winces and retracts his foot as he attempts to step forward. _Should've brought my shoes. _Cautiously toeing the edge of the concrete tile at the doorway, he holds on to the edge of the hatch and peers around its side.

At the far edge of the roof, Nagisa is walking on the ledge, hands outstretched, as Rei frets at him from below.

"Come down."

"Look! I'm flying."

"I'm serious. You could fall."

"I'm not that drunk. It's fine. You're such a worrywart."

"You had a lot to drink."

"Was Rei-chan watching me?"

"Can you seriously get down from there? You're making me nervous."

"Are you worried?" he teases.

"Yes, I'm worried. Now could you please just come down?"

Nagisa sighs theatrically. "For your sake, Rei-chan, fine."

But as he steps down, Nagisa's foot really does catch on something, and he end up tripping forwards. Rei grabs frantically at Nagisa, Nagisa tries to hold on to Rei, and they both end up toppling to the ground in a shower of gravel.

"Are you guys okay?" calls Makoto, but it must come out fainter than he'd intended, because neither of them responds. Nagisa sits up first, pulling Rei up after him.

"O—uch…"

"My glasses…"

"Ah, shoot—I hope they didn't—oh, no, they're right here."

"Did they break?"

"They're a-okay."

In one movement, Nagisa slides the glasses onto Rei's nose, leans forward, and kisses him.


	4. Chapter 4

The long, tedious opening ceremonies for the semester are the perfect time for Makoto to think himself in circles.

On the one hand, he could chalk it up to them being drunk. On the other hand, Rei was entirely sober, and given Nagisa's tolerance, he might've been fairly clear-headed too. Then again, he couldn't be sure of that, and in any case it was Nagisa who'd initiated it.

But it was also true that Rei hadn't exactly resisted.

His gaze slides over to the girl's section of the auditorium. Gou is barely visible, a sleek maroon ponytail buried in the depths of the third row with two of her girlfriends.

The _right _thing to do would be to tell Gou.

But it was one time. One five-second, fairly chaste, drunken kiss late at night during spring break that, in any case, hadn't led anywhere—Rei had pulled back after a moment, Nagisa had grinned and apologized, and they'd left the roof soon after, Nagisa weaving around a little and clutching at Rei's arm for support. From the way Nagisa acted the next day, Makoto couldn't even tell whether he remembered it happening.

He supposes the question was whether, clear of the effects of the wine, Nagisa was attracted to Rei. But Nagisa was so damn friendly towards everyone that it was really impossible to tell. Certainly there wasn't more evidence for Rei than for Gou, whom Nagisa keeps his arm around during lunch and peppers butterfly kisses on and teases mercilessly.

"Hey."

"Huh?"

Haru's standing over him, looking vaguely annoyed and just as overheated as the rest of them. "It's over. Let's go."

At the far end of the row, Nagisa waves at Gou and calls something that makes her blush and her friends titter. He hears her yell, "_Mou, _Nagisa!"

He would tell Gou, but it just seems so much like nothing will come of that moment—that he doesn't. And then there's the news that Rei springs on them during lunch one day:

"You're moving in with him?"

"He wants me to, just for the summer. And I also think it'd be, er, nice."

"_Nice, _Rei-chan?" teases Nagisa. "You're growing up so fast."

"Shut up!"

"So I guess that's the last we'll be seeing of you until September."

"It's not like it's that far away—his university's just an hour away, so I'll definitely come back and visit."

"I didn't mean it was far, I just thought you'd probably be. You know. _Busy _most of the time_._"

"Have some mercy," says Makoto, "or you'll tease him straight out of going."

"Mako-chan, nothing on the face of this planet could keep Rei-chan from going," says Nagisa quite seriously as Rei turns the color of flame.

()

These days Rei only shows up to swim practice half the time. He never really mentions where he's vanishing to, but everyone knows the bus to Shinagawa leaves half an hour after school lets out.

So it's just three of them in the pool, enduring the still-cool waters. As usual, Haru's reluctant to stop swimming, even as Makoto and Nagisa begin their cooldown. After they're done, Nagisa comes to sit next to him. Knees propped on elbows, he watches Haru slide back and forth beneath the water like a shuttle in a loom.

"I'm kind of worried," he says abruptly.

He sounds unusually grave. "…About what?"

"Rei-chan. What he said about summer."

Almost instantly Makoto thinks of a moonlit roof, a pair of abandoned glasses.

"Why?"

"I don't know. I mean, they haven't known each other that long, and Rei-chan's already moving in with him. Doesn't it seem a little strange?"

"It's not as if they're strangers. They're matched. They'll get married someday. How is it strange?"

"And he's so much older, too."

"Five years isn't so much—"

"Isn't it, though?"

"…Well, it won't matter as much when they get older. I didn't know you were such a worrier."

"Oh, I'm not, really. I guess I'm being silly about it. It's just that everyone's growing up so fast."

"Well, what about you and Gou-chan?" It's a leading question. "You two seem the same."

Nagisa's face crumples in on itself, and right away Makoto knows he's said the wrong thing.

"Mako-chan, do you think Gou-chan likes me?"

Makoto stares.

"What? Of course I do."

"Are you just saying that?"

"I'm not. I really think she does like you. She always seems to be having a good time when she's with you."

"Because she's been…Oh, I don't know how to say it. I just feel like nothing's changed between us."

"Since…"

"Since before the matching. I mean we were all friends before, and like I really liked her, but I guess I thought I just liked her as a friend. And now we're matched and everything and I still really like her, but the before-like and the after-like are like, the same like! And, and… I don't know, is that okay?"

Carefully, Makoto says, "Is this a physical thing? I mean—don't tell me if you don't want to, but—"

"No, it's fine. We haven't _done _anything. Why, do you think we should have?"

"No! No, no one's telling you you should have or you shouldn't have." Suddenly, he thinks he understands why Nagisa's so on-edge about Rei—Rei's obviously gone ahead with his match. Since Nagisa and Rei are such close friends, maybe he's feeling like he should have done the same. "You shouldn't ever feel pressured into doing anything physical. Even if you've found your match, everyone moves at their own pace. Unless, I mean… I don't know if Gou-chan's said anything to you about that…"

"She hasn't, but I don't know if she just doesn't want to tell me because she knows _I _don't want to do that."

"Do you? Want to, like, do anything?"

"I guess? I mean, we've kissed and stuff, but not seriously. I kind of don't feel any way about it, either way."

"It could be that you're just not ready to do the physical things yet."

"But that's the thing. I've done those things before, and I _liked_ them, but—but, Mako-tan, it was always with a guy."

Makoto blinks. He'd had absolutely no idea.

Nagisa is staring at his hands, utterly miserable and looking small and confused as a wet cat.

"And, like, I don't know whether maybe that's the problem… I'm so jealous of Rei-chan, because he, you know how he is—he totally believes in the map. And that's great. But I just—thought it would be a lot less confusing than this. I feel so bad for Gou-chan, too, getting stuck with someone like me. I really do like her a lot. Just…" He flicks a glance at Makoto as Haru pulls himself easily out of the pool, shaking water everywhere. "Don't tell anyone, okay?"

"Of course not." As Haru pads past them towards the shower rooms, Makoto says quietly, "It's really sudden for everyone, not just you. It's normal to feel kind of weird about it, I think."

"Probably," says Nagisa, sounding unconvinced.

A couple days later, Makoto's heading out after school when he catches sight of the Samezuka colors and a messy mop of red hair. Before he can duck out of view, Rin waves and makes a beeline for him. Makoto waits, feeling trapped.

"Hi, Rin."

"Yo."

He makes a faint gesture. "Haru's in the pool…"

"I know. I'll see him later. I wanted to talk to you."

Makoto blinks. "Me?" he repeats dumbly. "Okay…"

"You're pretty close with my sister, aren't you?"

"Yeah?"

Rin sighs, shifting tetchily from foot to foot. "It's about Hazuki. God, it's so annoying when other people make you be the go-between. Do you wanna grab something to eat? This might take a while."

Sliding into the booth across from Rin, Makoto doesn't think he's felt more off-balance all month. Rin's just so—different from him. And, well, if Rin is Haru's other… He supposes that just means he never had a shot in hell.

_Stop that. It's not like you can blame him._

Truth be told, for six months now Makoto's been treating Rin with an odd mix of avoidance when possible and totally cheery politeness otherwise, as if he's a distant relative to dutifully kiss on the cheek and tolerate for an evening. He doesn't like it. Sure, he was never as close with Rin as Haru, but he really is one of his oldest friends. Just, with the way things are now, Makoto can't quite treat him as if everything's the same. And it's so damn unfair, that the matching could take away two of his oldest friends in one cut.

Luckily, Rin is as imperceptive as always (and that just _digs _at Makoto, because how could a guy so noisily absorbed in himself ever _get _someone like Haru, someone quiet and self-contained who needs to be studied like an art?), plunking down his tray of fries loudly on the table.

"So," he says abruptly. "Nagisa."

"Yes…?"

He sighs, as if this is the wrong response. "Gou's not happy."

"With Nagisa?"

"With the match. She thinks he doesn't—fuck, I dunno. He doesn't like her, or some shit."

"Why?"

"I don't know! She'll act all pissy and uptight at home and then when I ask her what's wrong, she won't fucking talk about it. But she keeps throwing out hints it's something to do with Nagisa. She's driving all of us up the wall."

"I have an idea," says Makoto carefully, "what she's worried about." Briefly, he gives Rin a heavily edited version of his conversation with Nagisa. "So basically I think she's maybe ready to… go a little farther, or whatever, but Nagisa's not really at that stage yet."

Rin makes the obligatory grossed-out-older-brother face. "There's something else too. I think she thinks he's too close with Rei."

This is so ridiculously obvious that Makoto just sort of sits there for a moment. Eventually, he says, "Of course he's close with Rei, they've been friends for forever. But it's not the kind of close she has to be suspicious of."

"I know! I told her the same fucking thing, but she wouldn't listen to me. I mean, if Nagisa wasn't matched with her, I might think… But he is, so that's that."

"Might think—what, that he was…?"

Rin just stares at him. "Gay. I mean, come on Makoto, all of us were a little…"

"…I, uh, sure. But like you said, they're matched, so."

"I guess." He squashes a fry vengefully into the side of the basket. "Do you ever think that, like, sometimes the matches get screwed up?"

Frowning, Makoto says, "Just give it some time. They'll work it out eventually."

"I'm not talking about Gou and Nagisa. Just in general."

"I hope not," he says with as much conviction as he can muster. "That'd be horrible."

Rin shrugs. "Every year after New Years, there's always a jump in suicides."

"It makes me kind of mad," says Makoto quickly.

"Oh?"

"It's so selfish, isn't it? If you commit suicide, your other will never have anyone."

Rin looks at him strangely. _Shit. Did that sound weird?_

"Only you would say something like that."

"I… Sorry, I didn't mean to be insensitive—"

Rin waves his hand at him. "No, it's fine. I get it. You're just too considerate, sometimes." Lying on the table, Rin's phone suddenly buzzes; he just manages to catch it as it falls off the edge. He glances at the screen. "Haru's coming over in five."

"Oh, okay. I, um, I actually have to go. Literature homework. Unless there's something else you wanted to talk about."

"What? Come on, hang out with us for a while. You're always so busy doing work now. You're turning into a real nerd."

Makoto shrugs, rising to his feet. "Sorry. Maybe some other time. Tell Haru hi."

"Stay and tell him hi yourself," protests Rin, but Makoto is already sliding out of the booth and waving an apologetic goodbye.

()

They don't get anywhere in the prefectural tournament. Honestly, Makoto's surprised that they even come as close to placing as they do. After all, Rei, still their most vulnerable link, has skipped more practices than he's attended. And Nagisa…

Something's going on with Nagisa. And whatever it is, Makoto doesn't think it only has to do with Gou.

About a month ago, the school secretary had showed up at their fourth-period history class. Peeking around the corner, her thick glasses making her eyes look huge and owlish, she'd asked, "Is Hazuki Nagisa here?"

Nagisa looked up from the phone concealed in his palm beneath the desk—from his angle, Makoto could see that he'd been playing some fantasy RPG in lieu of taking notes. "Who…?"

A young woman, slender and tall and dressed in a cream-colored sheath dress, peered around the shoulder of the secretary. "Nagisa?"

Makoto had never met any of the Hazuki sisters—none of them lived in Iwatobi anymore, according to Nagisa—but the physical resemblance, the sloping button nose and upturned upper lip, was strong enough that he figured she must be one of them.

Nagisa made a little sound, and stood up. "What is…"

She shook her head, gestured at him to step outside.

Their footsteps faded quickly away, the soft scuffle of Nagisa's trainers playing counterpoint to the staccato clicks of the woman's heels. The teacher coughed loudly in a mostly-futile attempt to recapture the attention of the class, and resumed lecture with the air of an overworked engine tasked with hauling a long, heavy line of train cars. Rei turned from staring quizzically at the now-empty doorway and shot Makoto a confused look; Makoto frowned and shrugged.

After a few minutes, he caught a glimpse of movement outside. His seat afforded him a good view through the window; through it, he could see Nagisa and his sister moving like ants across the concrete, their shadows shriveled by the noon sun into near nonexistence. For a while it looked as if he was about to follow her out the school gates, but they ended up halting dead center in the big courtyard. They were too far away for Makoto to make out much, but it seemed she was talking to him quite intently—almost lecturing him. Half-listening to the teacher drone on about the Kansei Reforms, Makoto watched the light blaze off Nagisa's gold hair like a mirror.

She turned, swayed a few steps away from Nagisa, then swiveled again abruptly and hugged him almost ferociously, hands clenched in the back of his uniform shirt. When she released him, it was with a little shove. Makoto watched the dot of her travel all the way down the courtyard, before vanishing around the bend of the gates. Even after she'd disappeared from view, Nagisa continued to stand there, a frozen island of shadow marooned in a sea of light.

Then he shook his head sharply, swiped a hand over his face, and turned back towards the school buildings.

When he slid back into his seat, he didn't mention what they talked about. But he was absentminded all through practice afterschool, and excused himself early.

Gou had bitten her lip, hands worrying at the hem of her skirt. She didn't go after him.

Three weeks later, Samezuka slaughters its way through the prefecturals, to no one's surprise. Stony-faced, Haru swears up, down, and sideways that he isn't going to travel with their "opponents" to regionals, so of course it falls to Makoto to talk him off his high horse, since Rin is equally idiotic and too proud to beg for what they both clearly want to happen.

"They're our competitors. It's not appropriate."

Sometimes Makoto really, really just wants to take Haru by the shoulders and shake him. Hard. "I _know_, but he's your b—bondmate. This"—and he's trying to gesture at Iwatobi and everyone in general, but it's after school and an abandoned classroom and he sort of just ends up pointing at himself—"doesn't matter."

Haru glares at him. "It matters."

"…but it really doesn't, though."

"It _does_," he insists, eyes boring into Makoto. Makoto looks quickly away. "Anyway, if you don't go, you know he'll get cranky, and then he probably won't swim well, and then he'll be even more upset…"

"He doesn't care if I come."

Makoto's mouth twists. "_Please, _Haru. That's a load of crap, and you know it."

"He hasn't asked me."

_That's because it's _Rin, _you giant idiot. Christ, do I have to do everything myself? _

Apparently he does; after Haru leaves, Makoto pulls out his phone to text Rin. He ends up staring at the last string of messages between them—sent way back in April, some confusion about where and when to meet up with the others before going out.

He misses him, too. He misses both of them.

He shakes his head, types out the message quickly. [Hey, you should ask Haru to go to the regionals with you guys. He wants to go but he thinks you don't want him to for some reason]

Rin responds within seconds, which is rare for him. [wait why the fuck would he think that]

[I dont know ask him?]

Silence. Makoto sighs, tucks his phone back into his backpack.

That evening, Rin abruptly texts back, [harus an idiot]

[Okay, haha]

[what about you. r you coming]

Makoto stares at the phone, heart thrumming overfast with something—fear, maybe.

[I'll pass. School stuff, sorry.]

He presses send and turns his phone off.

()

On the Sunday after school ends, all of them trail Rei to the station. Ever thorough, Rei just about packs the kitchen sink; it takes many pairs of hands to haul all his luggage there.

While they wait for the train to arrive, they chat about nothing in particular, in that way friends do. Gou's as friendly towards Rei as she ever is, but Makoto catches the way her face falls blank while Nagisa bickers happily with Rei, the way her arms rise and cross over her chest as if of their own accord.

Gou had never struck him as the jealous type, but then again, Rei and Nagisa were really, really close by anyone's standards. Not to mention she had to be aware that pretty much no one had expected her and Nagisa to get matched. Some competitive feelings probably couldn't be helped.

He sidles over to her and waves a hand in front of her face. "Earth to Gou."

"Oh! Yeah, sorry. I dunno, it's this heat…"

"So what're your plans for summer?"

"I don't know. Maybe a part-time job, although it's a little late to apply."

"Or you could just take it easy before senior year."

She laughs, wry. "Trying not to think about that, thanks."

"What's Nagisa doing?"

"Oh, you know him. Probably just fooling around."

"Well, it's good he has you to keep an eye on him. At least he doesn't have to move all the way to Shinagawa to see you."

She glances at Rei. "Rei's going to be okay, isn't he?"

"I'm sure he'll be fine. Shinagawa isn't like, New York or something."

"Yeah, but it still seems really far from here."

"Everywhere seems far from Iwatobi."

"That's right—you're leaving too, aren't you?"

"I guess. Graduation's not for a while, though."

"Won't you get homesick, going to university so far away?"

He shrugs. "Probably."

She pulls at his sleeve. "Stay here with us."

He looks away and laughs so he doesn't have to explain himself.

Although they got to the station a quarter-hour early, Rei nearly misses the train, because when it pulls up there's a flurry of last-minute hugs and well-wishes. Nagisa gives him one of his infamous death-trap hugs, nuzzling his head against the side of Rei's neck so hard that Rei looks like he can't breathe for a few seconds.

"It's not like Shinagawa's that far," he scolds all of them, hair mussed, as Nagisa finally detaches himself.

"It's not," agrees Haru quietly.

"But it is," protests Nagisa.

Gou smiles faintly. "We'll come visit you, Rei. Or come visit us, or both."

Makoto hands him the last of his luggage. "Text us when you're settled in, okay?"

"All right, enough of that—it's not like Rei-chan's going off to war," says Nagisa brightly, sniffling a little. "Now, Godspeed to the lovebirds!" He cries it out entirely too loudly, and everyone laughs, even Gou, as quite a few people turn and stare at their little group.

Nagisa waves until the train is long out of view. "Come on, he can't see us anymore," scolds Gou, and pulls Nagisa into a sideways hug. "He'll be all right. Let's go."

Makoto's a little embarrassed for Gou, but then again, Nagisa's always been effuse in his emotions. He and Rei are just really good friends, and besides, Nagisa makes a fuss about everything.

As they walk up the hill towards the town, Haru and Rin's sweat-dampened heads rising and falling in front of them, Nagisa and Gou bickering about the results of some television reality show, it strikes Makoto that he's really on his own now.


	5. Chapter 5

Hoping to keep himself occupied, he gets a job at a small bakery for the summer. The fact that it's pretty close to the Matsuokas' house worries him at first. As it turns out, one of the twins does stop by a lot, but it's Gou, not Rin, and that he's perfectly fine with.

They fall into a pleasant routine—every morning right after they open, Gou drops in for breakfast before she heads off to her job at a lab at a nearby university. That early, the place is usually pretty much deserted, so Makoto can chat with her for a few minutes while she tears apart her croissant or toast with a vicious efficiency that reminds him of her brother.

The only other cashier in the place is a part-timer named Sho, an easy-going, talkative guy who works perfectly hard during the rush hours but seems to enjoy spending the rest of his time constructing incredibly complex latte art. Makoto gets along well with him pretty much straight from the first day—with everything that's going on with the Iwatobi crew right now, it's nice to talk to someone uninvolved in the drama.

"So you haven't found your match yet?" Sho is bent nearly double over a cup of espresso, moving a pitcher of milk over it in miniscule movements. He's probably doing the Mona Lisa or something. "That's rough. But hey—I'm nineteen already and I still haven't found mine, so there you go. We're both losers," he laughs.

"I—I don't really want to." Makoto moves the cloth too quickly over the counter and knocks over the tip jar. "Ah, shit."

"Shoot." Sho abandons the coffee. "Here, let me—"

Together, they hunch over the floor, picking coins out of crevices.

"So?"

"Hm?"

"Why don't you want to?"

"Um. I—there's another person I sort of liked. And another one of our friends got matched with them, and I wasn't really… I don't really want to be with anyone else. I know that doesn't make sense…"

Scattering the last of the change back into the jar, Sho sets it carefully back on the counter before responding.

"Wow. That blows. Big fucking time. You must be pissed at this other guy."

"Well, not really—at him."

"Just in general, though."

A smile slips onto Makoto's face. "Sort of, yeah."

"Dude." Sho looks down at the cooling coffee, makes a face at his progress, and takes a sip. "You're way too fucking nice. I woulda punched him, probably."

Makoto laughs, wry, thinking of Rin, his shark-teeth and his corded arms, his swimmer's build. "You wouldn't if you knew him."

"Yeah? You're a big guy. I bet you could take him."

He says this, yet Sho's only an inch or two shorter than him. "Maybe you could. You're more, uh, confrontational."

"I'll take that as a compliment. Give me this dude's address, man, and I swear I'll walk right up to him and give him a clean one on the chin." He sketches a slow-motion uppercut, clicking his tongue as he hits an imaginary jaw. "'Here's one for Tachibana,' you know?"

"Thanks for the offer," laughs Makoto.

One of Sho's eyebrows quirks upwards. "You think I'm joking."

"Aren't you?"

"I dunno, give me his address and we'll find out."

Smiling, he complains, "But if you get arrested, who's going to help me when we get busy?"

"Shit, man, that's why you gotta cover for me. Give them a, fuck, what d'you call it—an alibi, like in those mystery movies."

Makoto pulls a mock-serious face. "Officer, I swear on my mother's life that Sho was here at eleven o'clock."

"Not your _mom_—what if they find out? Maybe, like, on your little brother or something—"

"That's horrible, Sho."

"Again with the too-nice thing, Tachibana."

"Do you have siblings?"

"I have an older brother. We hate each other's guts. He'd be the first to throw me under the bus. Or, you know, vice versa."

He gets the impression that Sho's something of a troublemaker. Something about the slightly bow-legged way he walks, or the sleek silver flask he keeps tucked inside the breast pocket of his jacket, "for boredom"—maybe he _could _take on Rin. Yet he's also the type of person to be perfectly content sitting quietly in the corner with his pitcher of milk and his coffee, constructing little cats and flowers and snowflakes. Sometimes when Makoto drags himself in after a particularly sleepless night, Sho will plunk a grinning Doraemon or a floppy-winged penguin in front of Makoto's nose, insisting that they won't get in trouble if they help themselves to a bit of espresso.

Before he knows it, they're two weeks deep in summer, and he hasn't seen hide or tail of the Iwatobi crew, minus Gou. Did it used to be him, who'd gather them all to hang out during breaks? He can't quite remember. Several times he finds his finger hovering over the speed-dial for Haru, but he never brings himself to press the number. Probably, if Haru doesn't call him first, he's busy with other things (Rin, Rin-Rin-Rin), and Makoto should let him be.

Of course, Rei is gone. As for Nagisa, Makoto assumes at first that he's been hanging around with Gou. But though she chatters away about her brother and occasionally Haru, she never mentions him. When Makoto eventually asks, her lips skew instantly into a frown.

"He's _busy_," she scowls, fingers sketching scornful quotation marks in the air. "With _what, _even?"

"I dunno. I haven't talked him with either."

"Something's up with him. I just wish he'd talk to me about it. Y'know? I mean, it's Nagisa. You can like never shut him up normally."

"He's been like that with all of us."

"Yeah, but he should at least tell _me_."

In truth, it's still Rei who seems to know the most; when Makoto texts him to confide in Gou's concerns, he alludes vaguely to Nagisa going through some "personal things," before refusing to divulge more. Makoto understands Gou's frustrations, really, but he can't bring himself to blame Nagisa for feeling ill at ease with his match, not when he's been doing such a _stellar _job of handling his own. Still, he feels like it's his duty to right things between Gou and Nagisa—she does have the right to know, doesn't she? _At least _she's_ going about this whole bond thing correctly…_

But trying to pry information out of Rei is like trying to pull apart a brick wall by the fingernails. Having realized the mistake of admitting anything in the first place, he's clammed up completely, and Nagisa deflects any and all inquiries with a combination of Teflon-strength cheeriness and a tendency to conveniently forget to check his text messages. Helpless, all Makoto can do is avoid the topic with an increasingly irritated Gou.

Then, out of the blue, Nagisa texts him asking him to get lunch—and explicitly asks him not to tell Gou.

Makoto shows up to the little Korean-style café all sorts of apprehensive. What in all hell is happening between the two of them, anyway? Nagisa's already there, sitting outside—he's gone and got his hair cut, and it's shorter and wavier than ever.

They order and eat and chat about nothing in particular while Makoto plots how to go about figuring out what's going on that'll meet the least resistance.

"You know, I kind of thought you'd moved to Shinagawa too," he jokes. "I haven't seen you around all summer."

"Oh, no—I've been around Iwatobi."

"Yeah? We should go out with everyone else some day. Rin and Haru and Gou—ask her if she wants to go to the beach or something."

Nagisa glances down at his plate. _Bingo. _"I haven't, uh…"

"Hm?"

"I've been kind of busy with family things."

"Oh…"

Nagisa toys with a strand of his hair, before saying quietly, "My mom and dad are getting divorced."

A heavy weight settles in Makoto's chest. _Shit. So that's…_

"I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

He shrugs. "I kinda saw it coming. It sounds bad to say, but it was one of those things where it was just a matter of time, you know?"

Makoto nods mutely. Actually, he has no idea. His own parents have always been so stolidly together that he thinks of them as one unit, like a newspaper and the ink printed on it.

"And, I mean, I guess it's not like they're matched, so…"

He hadn't known. But of course, there's plenty of couples, even married ones, who aren't matched—one in seven billion are pretty tough odds to beat, after all. He wonders what it's like, living with someone whose wrist is marked with a stranger's name. It has to be awkward. Do you just ignore it? Or is it a kind of silent mutual agreement, to be one another's temporary holdovers?

"That's why my mom had us so late. I think she was trying to wait until she'd found her match, but, you know. I dunno. Probably if they were matched they would have tried to work it out, but the way things are, there's nothing really to keep them together. Honestly I think they were just holding out until I left for college. You know those waiting rooms, like at airports? That's what our house is like. Just—waiting. It's kind of an uncomfortable atmosphere."

"I'm sure they still, you know, loved one another, though. I mean, they had you and your sisters."

"That's what I used to think. I mean, I didn't even know they weren't matched until junior high. I don't know. It's hard to tell. I love them both, though." His voice catches. "A lot. I wish they didn't have to split up."

He sighs, shaky. Makoto can tell he's trying not to cry. After a minute, he says, "I've worried Gou-chan, though. I'm not a very good boyfriend."

"She's just been worried about you because she doesn't know. Of course she'll understand."

"I just—it's hard to talk to her about these things. Not because it's Gou-chan's fault, I mean! But, like—okay, this might sound weird, but I kind of think maybe our matching was what made them get divorced. After New Years my mom got really weird about everything, and I didn't really know why, but then suddenly I like realized, what if she got upset because I already found my match? Because none of my sisters found theirs as fast as me, and she wasn't weird about it then. But I get how she might be, like… jealous? Or it's hard for her, because she still hasn't found hers…and Dad too. So…"

"Nagisa, it's not your fault."

"But do you get it? Like, I don't think that's that crazy of a theory."

"But you said—you saw it coming, right? I mean, yeah, maybe your matching reminded your mom of some negative things. But in the end, if they were going to get divorced, there must have been older problems that totally had nothing to do with you. In the end it's completely a matter that's between them. So please don't blame yourself."

"I know, I know, that's what my sisters keep telling me. But sometimes you can't just stop thinking these things."

Sighing, he leans against Makoto's shoulder, and Makoto gives him a sideways-hug.

"Hang in there. If you ever want to talk to somebody..."

"Thanks. Mako-tan's the best listener."

The next time Gou comes in for her croissant, he lasts all of a few minutes before telling her. "I, uh, sort of ran into him in town the other day. He wanted to apologize to you. He's been having some family troubles, so that's why…"

Gou's face softens instantly from its irritated squint. She sits back with a little huff.

"He could've at least texted me back. Or just told me about it!"

"I don't think he really wants to talk about it."

"He told you, didn't he?"

"Not that much. I think he needs some space for now."

"_Mou. _That's the point of a match. You're supposed to be able to tell them anything. For someone who talks so much, Nagisa can be awfully close-mouthed."

Makoto shrugs. _Not like I would know… _It's selfish of him, but right now he doesn't want to deal with balancing the weight of Gou and Nagisa and his parents' divorce. _Anyway, since they're matched, it'll all work out in the end—it's got to. So someone like me doesn't need to interfere._

Gou pokes him in the arm, startling him out of his thoughts.

"And he's not the only one."

"The only what?"

"The only one who's suspiciously quiet lately! I feel like I've barely talked to you all summer."

"Come on, Gou, you see me like three times a week."

"Yeah, for like three minutes, and then it's always just me talking. I wanna hear what's going on with you."

He laughs uneasily. "Really, not much. I don't have a match, so I don't have all this news like you guys."

"You _have _a match, you just haven't found them yet."

"Yeah, sure—that's what I meant, I guess. I don't know. It just hasn't been a very eventful year. And with this whole match thing, I'm not in a hurry or anything. I'm okay with…" He shrugs. "Things being just kind of boring."

"If you say so… I don't know. Sometimes I look at you and you seem—kind of sad. I know a lot of us got matched up, but I don't want you to feel left out. We're all still the same people."

A searing flash of irritation. _As if anything's the same anymore. _"But it's different, too. I mean, like you and Nagisa, you guys feel differently now, right?"

She hesitates for a second. "Yeah, we're getting—closer to each other. We're different from Haru and Rin-rin, I think. Theirs was like, boom, instant, but we're slower. Honestly... that bothered me at first. But I've gotten used to it."

_Good. You've got the rest of your life to live with it._

Makoto rubs his temples. Some of the things that run through his mind… He doesn't understand this wellspring of hatred, bubbling black and bitter at his chest, where it came from or how to exorcise it. At least, after half an year of pretending, he knows it doesn't show in his face. But it bothers him, immensely. _This isn't me. I'm not angry like this. _

Gou checks her watch. "Crap, gotta go. See? It's always like this, me running off. Promise me we'll go out for lunch sometime."

"Does your lab ever give you time off?"

"… Not really. But dinner. Or something! Come to our house."

"Text me," he calls as she hurries out the door, even as he knows that he'll never visit the Matsuokas' home, because more likely than not he'll run into Rin there, and even more unbearably, Haru with him.

"She's cute," comments Sho from the behind the pyramid of paper cups he's been building.

"Gou's just a friend."

"Yeah, I figured."

For a moment, Makoto's tempted to ask what he means by that, but then twenty hyperactive kids dressed for a fieldtrip and their harried looking daycare teacher bustle into the shop, and there is no time for conversation for a quarter hour.

Sho gets off shift early that day, so Makoto closes up the shop by himself, heaving chairs onto tables as the baker and his two assistants clean off the stoves in the back room. He says goodbye to the rest of the workers and catches the bus into the town center to return some clothes that didn't fit the twins. The air is hot and close and dripping-wet with humidity; he just misses the next bus out, so he wanders into the shade of the big train terminal across the street. He buys himself a soda and has just sat down on one of the benches under the pavilion when he catches sight of him.

"Rei?"

He doesn't seem to hear him. He has his back to Makoto, standing in the middle of the platform, staring at the enormous European-looking wall clock set into the opposite wall.

Makoto gets up again, wiping sweat from his forehead. It's a little odd that Rei would be in Iwatobi without telling any of them, but as he approaches, he sees that it is unmistakably him.

He seems to be in something of a daze and starts when Makoto taps him on the shoulder.

"I thought it was you. I didn't know you were b…"

Makoto stops mid-sentence as Rei turns.

He—

"What happened?" His own voice sounds tight and strained to him.

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing. Your eye—"

"I can handle it, okay? I have to go."

"Wait, Rei—"

On instinct, he grabs Rei's arm. Rei glares at him—a frightening expression on his usually friendly face. "Let go."

"You're hurt. I can't just let you walk away."

"I told you, I'm fine. It's no big deal. Let me go, or else I'll miss my bus."

"There'll be another one."

"Why're you making such a big fucking deal out of this? I _said _it's nothing! Anyway, it's none of your business!"

Something about the way Rei says this touches off an idea in Makoto's head.

"…Does this have something to do with your match?"

The instant of touchy silence is all Makoto needs.

"Could you stop touching me?" he snaps.

Makoto finally lets go. "Listen, you—we don't have to talk about it. I swear. I won't ask. But do you know how to take care of that?"

"I'll be fine."

"It's just, I have some first-aid at my house. Nobody'll be home right now. If you want—do you want to come with me? I can give you some cream or something."

Rei wavers. "Come on," coaxes Makoto, like he's talking to a stray dog. "It'll take like ten minutes. Are you in a hurry?"


End file.
